


Physical Obliviate

by immxrtalbi



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Amnesia, Harry Potter is a Horcrux, Harry is nice to strangers who are nice to him, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Magical Accidents, Memory Loss, Oblivious Harry, Post-Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Secrets, Slow Burn, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-24
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:48:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 12,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27182671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/immxrtalbi/pseuds/immxrtalbi
Summary: Harry wakes up with no memory of his past life. The only thing he remembers is a girl screaming at him to run. Luckily, he meets Abraxas who treats him real well and even lets Harry stay at his manor. Sounds simple enough. But upon meeting a man named Riddle, Harry can't help but feel like he's met him before, and the scar on his forehead burns just by looking at him.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Tom Riddle
Comments: 95
Kudos: 758





	1. Harry Who?

Drops of water hit Harry's face, causing him to shiver. His eyes fluttered open, immediately seeing the dark sky above him. Thunder roared across the grey clouds. Where was he?

"Are you okay, sir?" a man hovered over him, blocking his view. Rain stopped hitting Harry as an invisible force came from above their heads.

"I think so?" It came out as a question. He slowly sat up, testing his body. He felt fine enough to move. "I don't know where I am."

"Are you a muggle?" the man said in mild disgust.

"What's a muggle?" Harry turned towards him, blinking.

"You can't be one. I can feel your magic threatening to burst out of you," the man mused, ignored Harry. "Stand up. Well, c'mon!" His patience was running low when Harry merely stared at him.

As Harry stood, he saw that the stranger had long blond hair tied in the back with a black ribbon. He wore an old-style suit with a grey tie. Harry finally glanced at his own clothing and found himself wearing nothing like the man in front of him.

It appeared the man also didn't like his attire since he whispered, "Muggle clothing," in annoyance. He shook his head and began to walk away, but stopped when Harry didn't move. "What are you waiting for? Hurry up! I don't have all day."

Harry's eyes widened and rushed towards the man. "Where are we going?"

"To the village. I can't leave a poor wizard in the rain. How cruel of me would that be," he said.

"Oh. Thanks?" Harry followed him like a duckling. He kept looking at the shield above him, even touched it because he couldn't help it. He giggled when his fingers tingled.

The whole time, the man watched him over his shoulder. A couple of times annoyed by Harry's antics as they made their way towards a small village.

"I'm Abraxas Malfoy," he introduced himself, "and you are?"

"I'm Harry, right? No, I know I'm Harry." Harry nodded, as if he was reassuring himself.

"Harry what?"

Harry shrugged. "I don't know."

Abraxas sighed. "Very well. I'm sure a healer will find out what's wrong with you, I suppose."

They entered a pub called Hog's Head Inn. Harry frowned when a couple of people eyed him with a scowl before turning their heads away when Abraxas glared at all of them.

"What can I get you for?" a middle-aged man, who looked way older than he supposed to be, said.

"Dragon Barrel Brandy, and for him…" Abraxas tilted his head, waiting for Harry's answer. "Do keep me waiting."

Harry's lip thinned, then he replied, "I've never had alcohol."

Abraxas rolled his eyes and turned back to Aberforth. "Give him the lightest thing you have."

"Will do." Aberforth worked on making the beverages.

Harry and Abraxas sat on stools as they waited. He saw the way Abraxas cleaned the counter with his wand before he laid his hands on it.

"Wicked," Harry whispered in awe.

"You don't have a wand?"

"I don't think so."

Abraxas observed him, then straightened his back when the drinks arrived.

"Brandy for you, and butterbeer for the boy," Aberforth said, not caring if Harry was even underage. He wasn't going to question him with Abraxas beside him. "Anything else?"

"That'll be all," he dismissed him.

Harry smiled at the foam bubbling, looking similar to whipped cream. He eagerly took a sip and enjoyed the sweet taste go down his tongue and into his mouth. He loved it.

From the corner of his eye, Abraxas watched him, drinking his own beverage. "Like it?"

"Yeah! Taste like butterscotch." A bit of white foam stuck on his upper lip, looking quite silly. "It's good. Thanks for buying it for me. You're really nice to a stranger." Harry continued gulping down his butterbeer.

"You seem friendly with a stranger. Why is that?" Abraxas inquired.

"Aren't you supposed to be nice with everyone?" Harry raised an eyebrow, finally wiping off the foam from his mouth.

Abraxas stared at him for a long moment. "Either you're daft or… you have no idea who you are?"

Harry scoffed. "I'm not dumb!" he said, offended. Then his lips curved downwards as he tried to think about who he was. His past. "I don't remember anything," he admitted, clutching onto the glass.

"It's alright." Abraxas finished his brandy. "I believe someone _obliviated_ you. No wonder I found you in the outskirts of Hogsmeade."

"What's obliviate?"

"I'll explain later. I like to invite you to my manor."

"You have a manor! You must be rich!" Harry grinned.

Abraxas refrained from letting out another sigh, instead he gave a smile to Harry. Feeling pity that someone _obliviated_ the poor boy. He seemed a few years younger than him. There was no point in asking because Abraxas would just hear another _I don't know_ from Harry, and frankly it was irritating.

"Do finish so we could go."

Harry nodded and downed all the butterbeer.

"You don't feel light headed?" he asked. For someone who didn't like alcohol, Harry sure finished that quickly. He expected him to feel something. Butterbeer wasn't exactly 1% alcohol free; the less was 4%.

"No, why?" Harry wondered.

"No reason. Come along." He paid Aberforth and then left the shop. "Now, Harry, I'm going to apparate us. You may not like it." He grabbed Harry's wrist.

"What's app—" Harry gasped as pressured ran over his body, like being squeezed in a small tube. His stomach churning and his mouth left wide open, nothing coming out.

Harry landed on the ground, finally seeing color again instead of blurry light. He puked when he could no longer hold anything. So much for the butterbeer.

Abraxas spared him a quick glance before he stalked forward into an enormous manor. Harry groaned and shakily climbed to his feet. He was a mess. The first thing his eyes landed on was a beautiful white peacock. Then another one.

"Are these yours?" Harry asked in a hoarse voice.

"Among other things, yes." He took out his wand from his sleeve and cleaned up Harry before he'd set inside his home. "Come along. I want you to meet my fiancée."

"Oh, you're getting married! Congratulations! I bet she's a wonderful person like you." Harry showed his pearly whites when he smiled.

If Abraxas could count the times he had bewilderedly stared at Harry upon meeting him, he'd have a headache.

"Yes—Well, she's marvelous lady." He blushed as images of his future wife flashed through his mind. "Give her compliments like that and she'll love you." He couldn't believe someone like Harry existed.

The memory charm that had hit Harry was incredibly strong.


	2. The Malfoys

Meeting Abraxas' fiancée, Edith, was certainly Harry's pleasure. She baked nonstop pastries and offered Harry every chance she got—especially after he got brownie points for saying, "Wow! Abraxas was right. You are a marvelous lady."

She was delighted to hear that he would be staying with them for the time being, after a healer would see what's wrong with him.

Harry was lying on the couch, watching the flames from the fireplace. A mug of hot chocolate levitated towards Harry.

"Here you go, my boy! Hot chocolate with extra marshmallows," Edith said, a bright smile on her face. Harry returned it with a smile of his own as he reached for the sweet drink.

"Remember, Harry, she's taken," Abraxas teased.

Harry laughed while Edith playfully glared at her future husband.

"Don't worry. You guys are the power couple here."

"Honestly, Abraxas! He looks far young to be in a marriage!" Edith huffed. She pinched Harry's cheeks. "Look at him. How old are you, my boy? Fifteen? Sixteen?"

"Now that's a good question." Abraxas assumed nineteen, but now he wasn't so sure. He loved sweets like a child and enjoyed Edith's motherly presence.

"I don't know," Harry answered.

Of course.

Abraxas let out a huff, then turned to Edith. "I found him near the forest outside of Hogsmeade. Nearly drenched in the rain. He seems to have been _obliviated_."

"Oh Merlin. So young!" Edith's blue eyes widened.

"I notified a healer. He'll Floo in the evening."

Harry didn't understand what they were talking about so he drank some hot coco.

* * *

The healer checked Harry, which was hard in the beginning. Harry didn't like being touched, and at first everyone thought it was because he was a stranger. But it wasn't the case since Abraxas and Edith were also strangers. It's mostly likely had to do with the healer who kept prodding him, therefore had sedated Harry with a spell.

After he finished, the healer turned to the anxious couple. "This boy has been through a lot," he said, frowning at the results. "Broken bones, concussions, eye damage. It appears it had been healed by magic… but other times on its own."

Edith covered her mouth in horror.

Abraxas comforted her by placing his arm around her shoulder. "What about his memory? Can you put back his memories?"

The healer paused as he scanned the results, then shook his head. "I don't believe he was _obliviated._ There's no sign of the spell in his head, or at all."

"What are you saying?" Abraxas demanded.

"That Harry had a terrible head injury that wiped away everything. He has what the muggles call 'amnesia' and there's no cure for it. Only that it may come back on its own. I won't give you high hope that it might. It all depends," he tilted his head to look at his patient, "on Harry."

"So he remembers nothing…"

"While he may not know exactly who he is, his body knows what he likes or doesn't like and responds just the same," the healer said.

"That explains the alcohol—" Edith smacked his arm.

"You gave him alcohol!" she said, lips turning into a scowl.

Ignoring his fiancée, he continued, "Harry said he never had alcohol but when he drank butterbeer— Which is a light beverage, my dear— He drank it with ease. As if he had drank butterbeer before."

The healer hummed. "It could mean that he has some level of alcohol tolerance. Or his old self drinks alcohol."

"How old does he seem to you?" Edith asked the important question both were thinking.

"Hmm." The healer eyed the results. "I didn't want to mention this… but he's malnourished, at least _was_ for a long time. But I say he's around seventeen from the looks of everything."

Abraxas' jaw dropped while Edith rushed towards Harry like a worried mother.

* * *

When Harry put his glasses on, he frowned when he saw the Malfoys in front of him. They told him what the healer had said, in a gentle voice. Harry's features turned blank and then asked to be left alone for a bit.

He glanced at the window. It was no longer raining but the clouds were still dark. That's how Harry felt deep down. Confused and lost.

Who was he?

* * *

Abraxas received a letter from his lord. He clutched the paper and called Edith. When she entered the kitchen, he said, "Visit your mother the next few days."

"Is he—"

"A meeting will take place tomorrow," Abraxas stated. He was surprised, though, they had a meeting three weeks ago. It's usually once a month. Did something happen?

Edith swallowed. It had become a routine for her to leave for a few days for her safety. She had the option to stay, but chose not to. She had seen what the dark lord was capable of. "I'll start packing. What about Harry?"

"He'll have to be here. I'm hoping Riddle will be able to read his mind and find something about him."

"No! Don't do it to him. The dark lord will—"

"He won't harm him!" Abraxas shouted.

Edith closed her eyes and said nothing. Then she began to make her way out of the kitchen, walking with her head held up high. "Do be careful, dear," was all she said.

Abraxas hoped he wasn't making a mistake.

* * *

"Where's Edith?" Harry asked, mouth curving into a frown. She wasn't in the dining room with them.

"She'll be away for a few days," he started, "and I should warn you. We'll be having company over."

"Should I leave, too?"

Abraxas chuckled. "That won't be necessary, Harry. I would like someone to examine you— Not a healer," he said quickly when he saw Harry's panicking eyes. "An acquaintance of mine."

"A friend?" Harry said, releasing a breath he didn't know he was holding.

"Erm, no. He's someone very important. Please don't offend him, or else."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "If he's mean... then I don't want to meet him."

"He's the only one who can help you," Abraxas stated, and Harry got the feeling that he had no saying in this. Harry nodded. Both went back to their breakfast.

Around noon, people in dark outfits started to arrive in the manor. Harry swallowed when a tall man glared at him like he was the intruder. He bolted out of the living room and into his room, locking it. He didn't want to meet anyone.

The door magically opened—he forgot about magic again—and Harry hid behind a couch. His heart wouldn't stop beating. Why couldn't he go with Edith?

"Harry, come out, _now_ ," Abraxas said in warning tone, prompting Harry to peek out from the cushion. He had never spoken to him like that before. In fact, Abraxas seemed cold by the unreadable expression.

There was another man beside him. "Now, now, Abraxas, no need to scare him," the man said softly.

Harry rose, arms dropping by his sides. "Yes?" He avoided making eye contact.

The stranger approached Harry slowly so he wouldn't frighten him. Harry forced his head up, locking gaze with the older man. He was certainly handsome with the black suit he wore and his hair nicely combed to the side.

Something about this felt like deja vu.

"Do I know you?" Harry suddenly asked.

The man's face broke into amusement. "Should you?"

A voice in his head was telling Harry to run, escape from this place. "You look familiar. Like we've met before," Harry said in a low voice. Why did the man look so familiar?

" _Harry_ ," Abraxas chided, but was stopped by his lord.

"It's alright," Tom said, narrowing his eyes towards his follower. Then he turned back to Harry. "I would certainly remember someone like you. I've never seen green eyes quite like yours." The was a hint of purring underneath.

Harry's lips formed a small smile at the compliment. "Thank you."

"I'm Tom Riddle." He reached for Harry's hand but as soon as his fingers touched his.

Both felt a strong burn. Pain shot through Tom's hand and Harry's scar. Harry hissed, while Tom remained calm and merely looked at his hand for any further damage. There was none.

"My lord?" Abraxas whispered.

Tom glared over his shoulder. "I would like a word with him. _Alone_."


	3. Lord Riddle, Sir

As Abraxas shut the door, Harry took a step back while rubbing his forehead. It was throbbing nonstop.

"I didn't mean to hurt you—"

"Don't worry about it," Tom said, with hooded eyes. He stalked towards Harry, a twisted smile on his face. "Take a seat, Harry. Abraxas told me everything about you."

Harry nodded, then slowly sat down, watching as Tom sat on the opposite side of the sofa.

"What's the last thing you remember?"

Harry paused, thinking hard. Everything was dark and empty. "I don't—"

"Try hard," Tom demanded.

His eyes scrunched up. But no matter how hard he tried, nothing came up— Wait! A girl with brown bushy hair popped in his mind. "A girl comes up—" She's screaming at him to run. "She shouting at me— She's crying," Harry's voice trembled.

"What is she saying?" he questioned.

Harry shook his head. He could see the girl moving her mouth but couldn't hear what else she was saying. He only heard the word— "Run." When Harry opened his eyes again, he squeaked at how close Tom had moved forward.

"Look me straight in the eyes."

Harry did. Then he felt a sharp pressure going straight through his head. What's happening? Why was he seeing the images again? Harry didn't want to know anymore. It was only making his head hurt more.

The pressure stopped, much to Harry's relief.

Tom wore a scowl, eyes narrowed. "You're telling the truth about not remembering anything."

Harry's lips thinned, then he huffed. "You thought I was lying!" He climbed to his feet and started to pace around the room. "I don't know who I am!"

"I just find it strange that a random boy showed up in the middle of nowhere, exactly where Abraxas was strolling by, is all," Tom said, crossing his leg.

Harry halted. "You think I'm after Abraxas' money?" he fumed. Of course he knew they were wealthy but Harry hadn't cared about that. "I would never do that! The Malfoys have shown me nothing but kindness."

Tom's lips formed a smirk, and it was only infuriating Harry more. "I see you have a temper."

Did he?

Harry inhaled, then exhaled. He hadn't gotten mad when he was found, then again, no one had managed to piss off Harry quite like Tom. Accusing him of faking his memory loss for money. The anger came as quickly too. Maybe he did have a temper.

"Can I go now?" Harry muttered.

"Not yet. I still have more to discuss. For starters, do you have a wand?"

"No."

Tom hummed. He grabbed his wand from his sleeve. "Here." Harry's fingers curled around the bone-like wand, and it felt strangely relaxing.

"It feels funny," Harry said.

"What?"

Harry rephrased his words. "It feels like power is going through my fingertips, if that makes sense."

Tom said nothing, but his eyes got dark. Harry refused to look at them. "Say _lumos_ ," Tom ordered.

"Lumos." Nothing happened. "Uh— Lumos!" Harry flicked his wrist this time. Again nothing. "What's supposed to happen?"

Tom rolled his eyes. "You're doing it wrong. You have to focus all your energy into the wand and say the spell."

So Harry focused and then raised his wand as he shouted, " _Lumos_!" Suddenly the tip of the wand glowed, surprising Harry. "I did it! I did it!"

Although Tom was not impressed. "Yes, you did a first-year spell. Wonderful," he deadpanned.

Ignoring the remark, Harry stared at the wand. He wanted one of his own. "I want a wand. Where can I get one?" he asked Tom, who pretended to think about it.

"I know someone. I'll buy you a wand if you're in my inner circle." He gave Harry a charming smile. "We're having a meeting in a bit and I would like for you to join us." He held his hand, waiting for his wand.

Harry returned it to him, frowning the whole time. "It's like a club, right?"

"Something like that." The way he smiled… made Harry shiver. It seemed malicious. "What do you say?"

"I'm in. Only because I want a wand."

* * *

"I want everyone to meet our new member, Harry."

Harry did a small wave, not bothering to smile since everyone looked at him with disdain. There were a total of twelve members, including Tom and Abraxas. All seated at the long dining table. There were two empty seats: one beside Tom, and the other by Abraxas.

"Can I sit anywhere?" Harry asked quietly.

"You may."

He didn't hesitate to sit beside Abraxas, and if Tom seemed annoyed, Harry couldn't tell. A few other members gasped at the audacity but Harry paid them no mind.

"Is he a pureblood?" Avery asked, arching his eyebrow.

"What's a pureblood?" Harry blurted out.

Tom chuckled, as if Harry told a joke. "Does anyone want to volunteer in explaining it to him?"

Abraxas was the one to explain it. Harry listened, then suddenly felt small upon what he was hearing. This club didn't sound anything like he imagined it would be. The group wasn't fond of muggleborns. Harry didn't know what he was—and it probably made the others already hate him for it.

His hands trembled, therefore he hid them under the table. Harry didn't pay attention to Tom's speech, instead he counted in his mind. Two members, Lestrange and Nott, kept eyeing him from across the table.

Harry kept his mouth shut and hoped the meeting would finish quick.

It didn't.

Tom went on about his new plan, which honestly, made Harry tilt his head. He didn't understand anything.

Harry raised his hand.

"Yes?" Tom locked gaze with him.

"What are you trying to accomplish?" he asked bluntly.

Tom's mouth curved up, slightly scaring the other members. "What do you think I'm trying to accomplish?" Okay, that's starting to get on Harry's nerves, whenever Tom asked the question right back.

"Erm… Running for something?" Harry shrugged.

Lestrange huffed. "Let's just torture him, my lord! He has no ambition like us!" Three members agreed with him.

"Why would you do that?" Harry's voice cracked, fingers grasping onto the chair's cushion.

"He's not one of us!" Avery added.

"Gentleman, please," Tom said softly. "Harry doesn't know yet but he'll get the hang of it. Won't you?" He had his wand in his hands, long fingers caressing it.

Why did Harry have the feeling that he was being threatened?

"Yes."

"Yes, _sir_ ," Tom insisted, patience wearing thin.

"There's no need to call me ' _sir_ ' Professor." The words came right out of his mouth before he knew what was happening. Harry covered his mouth in horror. Why did he say that? Why the word professor? "I didn't mean that— It just came out—"

There were harsh murmurs around him, and Harry didn't have to turn to know Abraxas was shaking his head. Nothing was going to save him from the sudden rudeness he just said. They wanted him to be punished.

Tom raised his hand, silencing everyone in the room. The whole time he had been glaring at the new member. "I was willing to make things easier for you. But it seems being lenient won't do." The wand was pointed towards Harry, an unforgivable ready to escape his lips.

If it wasn't for Abraxas interfering. "My lord, how about a duel with Harry and member from your choosing? Surely it's a good punishment for him," he said in a firm voice.

Harry's eyes had widened when the wand was pointed at him, then closed his eyes as Tom lowered it, releasing a relieved sigh. He didn't want to be in this room with these people.

"What an excellent idea, Abraxas," Tom praised, then he smiled sharply. "I pick you to duel him then."

"You can't be serious—" Abraxas flinched when he saw a hint of crimson in his lord's eyes. "Yes, my lord."

"A duel with him?" Harry pursed his lips. "I don't want to hurt him."

"Then he'll hurt you." He demanded for Nott's wand and then tossed it towards Harry, who barely caught it. "Here's your temporary wand. Not that you'll be needing it. I'm sure the fight will be over in ten seconds."

"But I don't know any spells!"

Tom let out a hollow laugh. "Sounds like your problem. Now get into your position over there." He pointed to the side.

Harry swallowed, standing up. Abraxas never once glanced at him as they made their way across the room where there was enough space. They stood on opposite sides.

Tom sank into his chair, elbows propped on the edge of the table. He placed a barrier around them so the two duelists wouldn't hurt him and the others. "Let the dueling begin."


	4. Expecto Patronum

Harry clenched the wand in his hand. His lips must be red from chewing on them hard. Abraxas stood at the opposite, looking just as troubled as him.

"What are you waiting for? Begin," Tom commanded.

Abraxas raised his wand and chanted a spell, black mist engulfed around Harry and him, but stopped when it touched Tom's barrier. Harry could hardly see anything.

Suddenly it got deadly quiet. If Harry blinked he would likely hear his eyelids closing.

"Harry!" Abraxas whispered loudly. "We don't have much time! Cast _Flipendo_ as much as you can!" Then the sounds were back. The whispers from the group at the table and the mist swishing around him.

His heart warmed that Abraxas was still trying to help him, even in this difficult situation. Straightening his back, Harry aimed the wand towards his opponent direction and shouted, "Flipendo!"

Abraxas easily batted the spell away. Well, he did say to do it many times.

A white spark abruptly hit on Harry's upper arm and he dropped his wand as pain coursed through his limb. Harry screamed. He held onto his arm for the pain to stop. But it didn't. It kept throbbing but he didn't bleed. What spell was it?

People jeered at him and praised Abraxas. Harry glared at their direction but was met with a foggy image of them. The only glimpse he could come across was two red orbs watching Harry. Swallowing, Harry averted his gaze, not wanting to know who it was.

A sudden force knocked Harry back with a loud thud. He groaned. He didn't want to duel anymore. He'd gladly surrender. Being a wizard was painful if it meant being tortured in a fight. Magic was supposed to be fun, not used like this.

His left hand burned as the same spell got him. "Fuck!" Harry gritted his teeth. It wasn't nearly as bad as his arm but damn the pain felt just the same. He balled his hand into a fist. It was swelling rapidly. He unclenched slowly; it was now numbed.

Harry's eyes watered, looking up at Abraxas, feeling betrayed. He knew Abraxas was going easy on him, yet it still hurt.

Abraxas shot another stinging hex. This time Harry was prepared and dodged. He needed to find his wand. But the ground seemed like a bottomless pit. His hand reached around the floor whenever he jumped and dodged.

Nothing.

A shadow went straight towards Harry. It seemed like a black ghost. It let out a low growl and rushed past him, bumping his aching shoulder. Then another one came. And another one.

Harry's breath hitched and his heart pounded nonstop. He felt like he had seen something like this before, something similar. His hands trembled. No matter how hard he tried to move, his body wouldn't let him. He was frozen with fear.

No words came out; his throat suddenly dry. His mind wanted to scream _stop it!_ and _please no more_. Still, nothing came out of his mouth.

Four shadows circled around Harry, like they were mocking him. They pushed and shoved with effortless force. Harry stumbled back, then glanced his surroundings. The shadows stood in his way, making the view ten times darker.

Tears fell alongside his cheeks. "S-Stop it," Harry said weakly.

They didn't. They only released monstrous sounds.

Harry crawled back, desperate for air. His lungs felt heavy and he had trouble breathing. His head also pulsed. Without thinking, he covered his face with his hands and shut his eyes. This had to be a bad dream. It had to.

But it wasn't.

And Harry sobbed.

Scornful laughter echoed the room.

Harry's shoulders hunched, shaking. Why was everyone cruel? He wanted nothing to do with this club. The first chance Harry got he was leaving. Anywhere was better than here.

_Harry._

A soft voice whispered in his ears.

_Harry, you are loved, so loved._

He gazed upwards, following the comforting voice. Nothing but horrors, but in his mind, it was the opposite. Harry slowly closed his eyes again and took a small breath.

_Harry, we love you. You are a brave boy. Our son._

It was two gentle voices. A male and female. Were they his parents? Then the image of a stag appeared in Harry's mind, followed by a doe beside him. The stag brightened and approached Harry. They felt safe and warm. Harry felt happiness within, and with, them.

 _Expecto Patronum_.

A spell? The whisper wanted him to use it. Harry snapped his eyes open, determined. He rolled quickly, hands roaming the ground once again. Then his fingers made contact with a thin piece of wood.

Yes!

He climbed to his feet in one swift motion. Harry grasped the wand, aiming it ahead, and yelled, " _Expecto Patronum_!" The tip of his wand released a wisp of white smoke before a stag emerged. Harry's eyes widened.

The audience gasped but Harry ignored them, instead eyeing the black mist fading away and the shadows shrieking by the sudden burn of light. The stag let out a strong light that swirled out until it got bigger and bigger, brightening the large room in an instant. Harry could finally see clearly.

Shadows were destroyed and the mist disappeared, leaving a shocked Abraxas behind.

Once the job was done, Harry and the stag made eye contact before it disappeared. Harry secretly wanted to touch it, even give it a hug to feel the warmth from earlier. It was family. His family. He knew it deep down.

Now all that was left was taking down Abraxas. Smirking, Harry cast, "Flipendo!" directly at Abraxas' chest. His lips twitched in satisfaction as the man was knocked back against the wall. Served him right, although he would apologize later for that on Edith's behalf, but Harry got a feeling she would be proud of him.

Harry lowered his wand and shot a glare at the members of the club. They had all assumed Harry would lose and be tortured. But now no one said a thing. Good. Tom rose from his seat, and he seemed satisfied as his lips made a twisted smile. Harry didn't like that expression.

The barrier vanished.

Tom stalked towards him, like a predator.

Harry's body throbbed when he took a step back. His swollen hand was holding onto his hurt right arm. His vision blurred and everything started to spin, legs becoming unsteady. He swayed. Harry dropped the wand, no longer able to concentrate.

He lost his balance as he fell forward and everything went dark.


	5. Marked

Abraxas’ eyes widened at Harry’s unconscious body. Tom held onto him when the poor boy collapsed. It took every power to stay still.

“Malfoy,” Tom’s cold voice made him feel small.

“Yes, my lord?”

“Were you aware that he’s a light wizard?” He glared at Abraxas, eyes glowing red.

“No. I didn’t know.” And he should’ve. Harry showed all the signs being from the light side. “What do you want me to do?” It pained him to ask that question.

Tom paused, eyeing the boy before smirking. “He’s certainly more useful than I thought. I can train him.” Tom raised his wand and levitated Harry. Once free he turned towards the others. “We have a new member. A _special_ member.”

Abraxas gulped, fearing for the worst.

* * *

A soft voice woke Harry up. His eyes fluttered open as he craned his head, following the familiar voice he had grown to love. “Edith?” Harry said with a lopsided smile. “You’re back.”

Edith gasped and grabbed a hold of Harry’s hand. “You’re awake, darling. I was so worried for you. Abraxas told me you were… in an _accident_ ,” she forced the word out. Edith was well aware what had occurred in her home, but kept her mouth shut. Lord Riddle would not take lightly to her causing a scene, even if she was Abraxas’ wife.

“Yeah,” Harry said absentmindedly, “I think so.”

“Oh, sweetie. Are you hurt anywhere else?”

Harry recalled the duel. Then he grinned, and said, “I beat your husband!”

Edith froze before she burst into laughter. “Well done, Harry. He had it coming.” She rubbed her thumb on his knuckles but halted as she felt rough patches of skin. “What’s this?” Edith raised his hand and peered at the words carved on his skin.

_I must not tell lies_

“Harry, did you—“

“I don’t know.” Harry shrugged, looking elsewhere, but never once pulling away from Edith. “I don’t remember.” He had seen all his scars when he showered on the first day of his stay with the Malfoys. It seemed he had been through a lot.

“Nevertheless,” Edith stated, “I won’t judge about your past. I know you, and you’re the nicest boy I’ve ever met.”

Harry’s eyes gleamed. “I’m happy I get to be here with you.”

The happiness in Edith’s eyes faded, showing sadness. “About that… Harry—“

“You’ll be going with Tom,” Abraxas said, entering the room, with Tom behind him.

“What? No! I don’t want to!” Harry shouted.

Tom padded towards him. “I’m afraid you have no say in the matter.” Edith clutched onto Harry’s hand. “The Malfoys agreed to it.”

“They did?” Harry turned to both of them, hurt.

Abraxas nodded. His lips were thinned and his back was straightened. “It’s for the best. Tom has resources that can help you, even help get your memories back.”

Harry’s mouth parted, then closed it. He glanced at Tom, who had been gazing at Harry with hooded eyes. It was slightly creeping him out.

“What do you say, Harry?” Edith whispered, finally letting him go.

“What else is there to say? It’s already been decided.” He shut his eyes and rolled on his side, avoiding seeing the others. Harry felt betrayed. He thought he found people that cared for him, but he was wrong. He was nothing but a nuisance to them.

And for some reason, the feeling felt like it hit a nerve deep down.

* * *

The luggage in his hand was light, which was strange since Edith put a whole wardrobe of clothing for him inside. Harry didn’t own anything before setting foot inside the Malfoys home, and now he owned outfits, cloaks, books, and quills with a set of parchment.

Tom stood waiting by the door while the Malfoys were across them.

“Ready?”

“Can I say goodbye?” Harry pleaded.

“Very well.”

Harry beamed. He rushed to give Edith a final hug, and as he did so something was slipped inside his pocket.

“If you ever feel like you’re in danger in any way, use this by grasping it,” Edith whispered to his ear, so quietly that if Harry wasn’t paying attention he would’ve missed it. She pulled back. “I’m going to miss you.”

“Me too. And thank you for everything,” Harry said. He put his hand inside his coat’s pocket, feeling a brooch pin. Harry still had a lot of research to do about magic.

With a final goodbye handshake from Abraxas, Harry and Tom left the manor. Tom did side-along apparate, much to Harry’s dismay. His first time wasn’t exactly fun. He had grasped onto Harry’s elbow, landing in another house—that seemed cold and empty.

“Where are we?”

“My house,” Tom answered, taking off his cloak and hanging it on a hook attached to a wall.

“Erm— Where do I—“

“Corki,” Tom called.

Harry jumped when a small creature appeared out of nowhere. What was it? It looked hideous. Was it a rat? A walking shaved cat?

“Yes, master,” Corki said.

“Take our guest to an empty room, then after you’re done you’re going to prepare us dinner.” Tom headed towards the couch as he spoke. Harry frowned, not liking the interaction between him and the creature.

Corki vanished, then appeared in front of Harry. He snatched the luggage from him and then disappeared again.

“Hey!” Harry exclaimed as he glared at Tom. “That thing stole my stuff!”

“Relax. It’s an elf. He’s merely doing his job. Now come sit. We have plenty to discuss.”

Harry rubbed his sleeved forearms. He sat in a chair across from Tom, not wanting to sit in the loveseat the older man was occupying. And if Tom took it offensive, he didn’t show it, instead he smirked.

“Tell me about the spell you did during the duel.”

“Expecto Patronum?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t know. It just came in my head.”

“How so?” Tom prodded, crossing his leg over the other.

Harry hesitated if he should tell Tom the truth. He bit his lips. “It just did, okay?” His hands balled into fists. “What’s with all the questions?”

“You’re not entirely being truthful, are you?” Tom narrowed his eyes. “I can see it in your eyes. You’re hiding something.”

“How would you know? We don’t know each other!” Harry snapped.

“At least I know who I am, do you? Do you know yourself?” Tom countered.

Harry’s scar suddenly started to burn. He hissed at the pain, running his palm over his forehead in an attempt to soothe it. “I don’t… and I don’t want to. Something dark lurks in there,” Harry confessed. He had a vivid dream earlier, and it was more of a nightmare than anything else.

Tom’s anger lowered a bit, intrigued now by the new piece of information. “Care to explain?” He couldn’t help but want to learn everything about Harry, the mysterious stranger who appeared out of nowhere—and there was no information about him anywhere. Tom asked his followers; not even the well-known ones knew Harry. Nothing came up about the young man.

Lacing his hands together, Harry spoke, “Have you ever felt like there’s a darker side of you? Something evil?” Tom made no comment, but his eyes widened in anticipation. Harry blew out a breath. “Something evil is in my head. Whispering to me horrible things. To kill. To commit crimes.” Harry shook his head and then released a huff. “But it’s not my voice.”

Tom had leaned closer to Harry, eager for more. “Whose voice is it?”

“It belongs to man who looks like a snake with red eyes. He was hissing at me.”

“ _Like this_ ,” Tom hissed.

“Yeah, exactly like that!”

Tom tensed, locking gaze with Harry. “ _Can you understand me_?”

“Well, you’re talking to me, so yes I can.” He tilted his head to the side, confused. Was Tom messing with him?

“Harry,” Tom started, standing up, “I’m not speaking in English.” He slowly reached for his wand.

“What? Then what language are you talking in?”

“ _Parseltongue_. An extinct language, and there’s only two people alive who speak it.” Tom cast a spell around them, prompting Harry to look above the glowing light that enveloped them. “I’m one of them.”

“Oh, cool. Who’s the other?” Harry asked, eyes meeting Tom’s again.

Tom abruptly seized Harry’s wrist and turned it upright—Harry winced at the sudden pain—pressing the tip of the wand on his flesh. “ _You_ ,” he replied, then marked Harry with a personal symbol of a green snake ready to strike.


	6. Caged

Cool relief washed over Harry. It no longer hurt when Tom touched him. However, instead of being happy, he gritted his teeth and yanked his arm back.

“Why did you do that for!” Harry shouted. “You gave me a bloody tattoo!” He eyed his forearm, noticing how realistic the snake looked with the fangs and tongue sticking out.

Tom was unbothered by Harry’s attitude, instead put his wand back inside his sleeve. “It had to be done. My touch would harm you. I can’t have that happening to someone valuable. You need to be protected.”

Harry’s eyebrows knitted together. “I’m valuable?”

“Of course. You speak parseltongue. A gift. You and I are special.” He gently reached for Harry’s wrist, peering at the fresh mark. “And now you have a piece of me inside of you.” 

“That sounds kinda gross,” Harry sputtered, “at least how you’re saying it.”

Tom raised his hands in frustration and walked away, muttering under his breath, _why did it have to be him_?

“Can I go to my room?”

Tom gave him a dismissive wave with his hand, and Harry took the opportunity to leave, even though he still had no clue where the room was. He only wanted to get away from Tom.

* * *

Living with Tom was certainly different than living with the Malfoys. For starters, Corki—the house elf—often fetched him and told him to be ready for master. Second, Harry was not allowed outside unless Tom permitted it. Harry went from being free to being trapped in a cage. Lastly, it was starting to piss Harry off that Tom wanted to hear him speak in parseltongue.

“I don’t know how to speak it,” Harry said for the tenth time.

“Then learn.”

They were both sitting at the living room long table, eating dinner. Harry found it silly that they were eight feet apart from each other and having a stupid conversation.

“Why? I understand you just fine!”

Tom scoffed. “You lack manners. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re a _mudblood_.”

That word struck a nerve with Harry. “Don’t say that!” he snapped, lips curling into a snarl. “Don’t every say that word again!”

“You know what it means?” Tom raised an eyebrow, honestly surprised.

“No— But it sounds wrong.” Harry’s head suddenly throbbed. “I’m sorry for yelling. I don’t know what came over me.” He went back to eating his mashed potatoes, yet he didn’t have the appetite anymore.

“That temper of yours… you need work on that,” Tom stated. He cleaned his lips with a napkin and then rose from his seat.

“I-I know. I don’t mean to do it.” Harry put down his spoon. “Was I an angry person?” he asked himself. “I sometimes feel like I was punished.” A hand squeezed his shoulder, causing Harry to flinch as he never noticed Tom approaching him.

“Punished?”

Harry nodded, not daring to raise his head. “I have several scars all over my body. What if I was punished because I was a bad person?” he whispered brokenly.

“Show me,” Tom requested, although it seemed more like a demand.

“What? That feels oddly intimate, don’t you think?” Harry chuckled nervously, cheeks turning pink.

“You have a piece of me inside—“

“Oh Merlin, you’re bringing that up again.” Harry groaned as he covered his face. “Fine, fine. Can I finish dinner first before I’m violated with your eyes?”

Tom rolled his eyes. Sometimes the things Harry said made him believe that he was more childish than anything else.

As Harry shoved a spoonful of corn into his mouth, he caught Tom’s gaze, waiting. Sighing, Harry pushed his plate away and said, “You know what, I’m done. Let’s go in other room.” He couldn’t continue eating with the man eyeing him like a predator waiting to attack.

“I thought you would never ask,” Tom answered with a pleased grin.

Harry grumbled as he exited the dining room. He took off his grey sweater, followed by a white shirt, revealing a skinny body underneath. Tom’s breath hitched upon the scars that lingered over Harry’s body. But the one that got his attention the most was: a red, raw patch of skin, as if Harry was burned by something oval-shaped over his heart.

“That scar… it’s recent,” Tom said matter-of-factly,

“Is it?” Harry lowered his head.

“Yes. It seems tender.” His fingers touched the wound, and Harry recoiled, prompting Tom to pull back. “Do you hate being touched?”

“I guess so.” Harry never thought about it… but he’d feel uncomfortable when people touched him. The only person Harry got used to was with Edith. “It’s the reason I believe I was punished. The scars… and the flinching.” He peered at the long scar on his arm.

“Lift your bangs,” Tom said, nicer than the first time. “I know you have a scar there. I see the way you rub your forehead.”

“But that scar looks dumb,” Harry mumbled, yet did as he was told.

“A lightning bolt. How peculiar.” Tom refrained from touching after seeing the young teen’s reaction.

Harry’s scowled and combed his hair down with his fingers, offended by the remark. “I didn’t ask to have this!” He reached for his shirt, done with the show—

Tom turned Harry around and snatched the shirt from his hands. “I wasn’t done looking.”

Harry gritted his teeth. “I don’t care! I’m done. If you want to hurt me for not listening, then go for it! I must know the feeling anyway.” His nose scrunched in disdain.

Silence roamed the room.

Finally, Tom shoved the shirt back, and Harry barely caught it. “Harming another parseltongue speaker is something I frown upon.” He left the room without so much as sparing a glance from Harry.

Oh. Harry forgot that he’s _valuable_ now.

* * *

Tom avoided him for three days. Harry was terribly lonely. His only companionship was Corki, who became fond of Harry’s nice treatment, and Edith’s letters. She wrote to him once a week, and Harry kept the letters in a drawer, next to where the brooch was.

Enough was enough. Harry knocked at Tom’s desk room where he studied nonstop about politics and dark magic.

“Yes?” Tom said as he opened the door.

Harry sighed. “May I go outside?” The sun was out and there was wind blowing through the tall grass from the back of the house.

“No.”

“Why?”

“Because _I_ said so,” Tom said coldly, then shut the door. Not directly towards Harry’s face but close enough.

Harry didn’t know why but a sudden wave of hurt surged through him. And before he knew it tears silently fell down his face. Why was he crying? He wasn’t hurt by Tom, only the words. It’s like he had heard them all his life.

He paced away, wiping his cheeks. He had to go back to his room before— Harry found himself unable to move.

“Where are you off to?” Tom questioned from behind.

“Back to my room. Sorry for bothering you.” Harry used his sleeve to get every tear before Tom could spot it.

Sadly, Tom saw right through him.

“Why are you crying?” His voice held no emotion.

“I don’t know. Not because of you,” Harry reassured, forcing his voice to be steady.

Tom’s footsteps came closer. “I neglected to inform you that the marking I gave you can also let me know what emotions you feel. Right now, you feel sorrow and hurt.”

Harry shut his eyes and let out a shaky breath. “Because I fucking am. But it’s not because of you, alright?” He tried moving again, didn’t work. He’s stuck to the ground. “It’s what you told me. I think someone told me that all the time.” When he reopened his eyes, Tom was in front of him, observing—Harry felt like a baby for crying now.

“You really want to go outside?”

Harry nodded, face flushed.

Tom turned around without another word. Harry gasped when his legs were free. “Follow me,” he demanded.

They headed towards the library. Harry’s lips curved down, expecting to be led outside, not the library. Of course Harry had been there before; not the most interesting place.

“Why are we here?”

A leather book flew towards Tom’s outreached hand. “I propose a deal. If you read every day, I’ll give you access outside.” He handed the thick book to him.

“Really?” Harry looked hopeful. He gently held the book: _Parseltongue History_. There was an engraved snake on the cover, slithering around the corners in a circle.

“But Corki will be watching you,” Tom warned. Not truly trusting Harry on his own.

“That’s fair.” Harry shrugged his shoulders. He’d take anything right now.

“And you will be quizzed for everything you’re reading.”

“Oh geez.” He was starting to rethink this now. “Why do I feel like I’m in Hogwarts?” he blurted out.

Tom’s eyes widened. “You went there?”

“Not sure. The name sounds familiar, though,” Harry admitted.

“I see…” There was a tone in there that Harry couldn’t pinpoint, but decided it wasn’t important. “Read a few paragraphs and I’ll grant your wish. Now if you’ll excuse me.” As Tom stalked out of the room, he halted, adding, “And no more crying. It’s a sign of weakness. You have the greatest gift in the wizard world so let it be your strength.”

Harry clutched the book across his chest, giving Tom a small smile. “I will.”


	7. Two Old Men

Tom kept his promise: he allowed Harry outside now. All he had to do was read the majority of textbooks on the shelves and be tested. It went ongoing for a few weeks, much to Harry's dismay.

Harry groaned as he smacked his head on the table. "I don't want to read anymore. My head hurts."

"I suppose we can take a break," Tom said. He shut the book and levitated it back to its spot on the corner.

"How about forever," Harry muttered.

Tom ran his fingers through Harry's hair. The first time he did that Harry freaked out, but now, he didn't mind. It was a sign of affection. This was Tom's way of being friendly with Harry.

" _You've been good lately. A reward is an order_ ," Tom hissed softly.

Harry lifted his head, grinning. " _I love rewards_!"

Tom smirked. Harry had been improving in speaking parseltongue. He clasped his hands behind his back and padded towards the window. " _What do you wish for?"_

_"Can I have a broom? Please."_

"A broom? Why on earth would you want one?" It surprised Tom enough to switch back into English.

"I read that it feels like you're flying!" Harry jumped out of his chair and reached for a book that was hidden behind a small table decor. "Look at this!" He flipped through the pages like a madman—Tom grimaced at the folded page Harry had done to bookmark it. If it was anyone else... they would've suffered. "Found it."

Tom peered at the animation of a Quidditch player flying on a broom. "I see you found the sport section..." He honestly thought he burned that thing. It was a gift from Abraxas as a joke.

"So can I have one?"

Saying no sounded harsh, therefore Tom tried a different tactic. "I actually have something better in mind. It's something you've been wanting for a while."

It worked.

"Oh, what is it?" Harry smiled brightly, showing white teeth.

"You'll have to wait. Now get dressed. We're heading out."

Harry didn't need to be told twice as he bolted out of the room.

* * *

They walked side by side in Diagon Alley. Both wearing fine black cloaks with white dressed shirts underneath. Harry hated dressing formal but Tom had told him he needed to dress proper when out.

The street was crowded with people walking by. Someone bumped into Harry, causing him to stagger. Luckily, Tom steadied him.

"What an asshole." Harry growled, glancing over his shoulder. As he looked back, he blinked when he caught Tom's eyes turning crimson. "Tom?"

"It's nothing. Let's be on our way." He tugged on Harry's elbow.

A scream was heard behind them, followed by people gasping. Harry didn't have a chance to see because Tom pulled him forward and took a sharp turn.

Weird.

"Remember how I promised you that if you join my inner circle you'll get a wand," Tom said, a grin forming on his lips. He opened a door to a shop, allowing Harry in first _._ _Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands_ read as the door shut _._

Harry gasped, then smiled. "You mean it?"

"I'm a man of my word."

An old man stood waiting by the counter, smiling before it faded as he saw who was approaching. Nevertheless, he said, "How can I help you, gentlemen?"

Harry was too busy scanning his surroundings and let Tom handle the talking. The shop was narrow and cramped and filled with tiny boxes on the shelves all around him. The place seemed cozy yet messy.

"Harry, come here," Tom said softly. "This is Ollivander. He will help you find the perfect wand. Isn't that right, sir?"

Ollivander nodded. He glanced at Harry. "Evening, Harry." Pulling out a box behind him, Ollivander opened it and took out a what Harry had been dying to have. "Try this one."

A jet-black wand with carvings at the handle was given to him. Harry liked the style, way better than the wand he used from Nott. As he gave it a flick, a spell shot out and burned a few boxes. Harry dropped the wand on the counter, face twisting in horror.

"Yes… well, don't worry, my boy. It simply means that wand wasn't meant for you," Ollivander reassured. "Let me see." He turned eyeing box per box.

Tom leaned down, whispering in Harry's ear, "I did exactly the same thing. Don't fret." Then he stepped back and clasped his hands behind his back. His face blank as Ollivander spun around.

Harry swallowed. "What if I don't have a perfect wand?"

He handed Harry another wand, this time dark brown and it seemed curved. "Nonsense. There's a wand for everybody. Here, this one is made of willow. It's a very uncommon wand with healing powers."

The wood was smooth against his palm and it was easy to handle. As he flicked it, nothing happened. He did it again. Nothing. Harry glanced over his shoulder, and Tom seemed disappointed just like he predicted.

They spent the next fifteen minutes finding a wand. Harry either blew something or nothing occurred. He had tried over ten variety of woods, but only two cores: dragon heartstring and unicorn tail hair. None reacted well to him.

Ollivander sighed and shook his head. "Very troublesome." He took a quick glimpse at Riddle, who was losing his patience. Then an idea came to his head. "I wonder…" He went towards the backroom, finger following the names of the boxes until it stopped on a certain one.

Harry had stopped being excited after his sixth try. When Ollivander came back with a pleased smile on his face, Harry's breath hitched. This had to be it. The box in his hands. It had to be Harry's.

"If this wand doesn't work on you, I fail as a wandmaker. For they find a wand suitable for every wizard and witch who come to them," Ollivander said. He pushed the lid off and placed it in Harry's waiting hand.

Harry curled his hand around the wand, and he felt something powerful coursing through him. A gust of wind formed, sending boxes flying everywhere. His hair became disheveled, bangs sticking upwards. He felt like he was glowing with the magic surrounding him. A smile spread across Harry's face.

"Curious. Very curious indeed," Ollivander muttered.

Harry faced Tom. "I found my wand, Tom! Thank you, thank you!" Without thinking, he rushed to embrace him. Happy that he finally acquired his own.

Tom didn't return the gesture, however, he did praise him. "Now training can begin. You'll grow stronger, Harry." He narrowed his eyes at Ollivander. "Go wait outside. I need to pay and have a few words with the owner."

Harry nodded, smile never wavering, and exited the shop.

Once outside, Harry admired the beautiful wand. He walked down the path, fingers rubbing the smooth surface, wondering what it was made of. Perhaps Tom would ask Ollivander.

Harry suddenly bumped into someone—this time his fault for not paying attention. At least the stranger was apologizing unlike the person from earlier, though he shouldn't be.

"I'm incredibly sorry, young man," an old man with half-moon glasses said. He fixed his cloak, and Harry did the same with his.

"No, it's my fault. I wasn't watching where I was going."

"And what's got you excited on this pleasant afternoon?" He gave Harry a warm smile.

Harry beamed and raised his gift. "You see, I got this today."

The old man stared closely at the wand before he straightened himself. "Aren't you a bit late for getting one? You should've received it when you were eleven with your Hogwarts letter."

Harry shrugged. "I didn't attend there, sir."

"Oh? So where did you attend?" he questioned, raising an eyebrow.

"I'm not sure." Harry began to sweat. He didn't like being asked questions from strangers. While the old man was kind to Harry, something inside was making him uncomfortable. "I have to go—"

"I don't mean to frighten you. I'm a professor at Hogwarts where students learn about magic."

Harry blinked. "Magic?"

"Yes. How old are you? Perhaps you can attend this year—"

"Dumbledore," Tom's voice said sweetly, "what brings you here? It's rare of you to be in Diagon Alley." He stood beside Harry, then wrapped an arm around his shoulder. Harry relaxed upon Tom's presence.

"Tom…" Dumbledore's face crumbled. He cleared his throat. "I was merely talking to this bright boy. Who are you? Congratulation on your wand, by the way.

As Harry was about to answer, Tom beat him, "His name is Harry Riddle," he said firmly. Harry's eyes widened, but chose not to correct him. "He's very intelligent, like me. I'm sorry but we are running late."

And just like that, any amusement he had while talking with Harry was gone. "I see. I must get going, too. Pleasure meeting you both."

Tom waited until he was out of earshot. He wore a scowl, which ruined his handsome face. "What did you both talk about?"

"I accidentally crashed into him," Harry said sheepishly when Tom glared at him. "We started talking about my wand… but then he started asking me questions about Hogwarts, if I attended there, or want to. Who is he?"

"Dumbledore always stuck his nose where he doesn't belong," Tom seethed. The arm that was on Harry's shoulder moved, now his palm was on his back, gently pushing him forward. "I know this isn't the last time we'll hear from him. We better get home. I'll explain everything to you there."

* * *

Over dinner, Harry asked the question that was on his mind all afternoon. "Why did you tell Dumbledore that my name is Harry Riddle? I don't know my last name."

"We can't have you not having one, now can we?" Tom countered.

"Okay… Oh!" Harry remembered. "Did Ollivander tell you what type of wood the wand is made of? Or perhaps the core?" He was dying to know.

Tom's smile turned into something dark. "It's Holly. Rare to have; also considered protective. As for the core… it was a shocking discovery."

"Why?"

"Because only few have them, did you know?" Tom reached for his own wand. Harry knew what kind it was: a yew with a phoenix feather. "Yours is also from a phoenix feather."

"No way!"

"You and I are more alike than I thought, Harry. Our wands are brothers, meaning that they are equal with each other. You're an important asset to me. I don't know who you or where you came from, but you'll carry my last name for the time being."

"That's kind of you," Harry said, though he was still processing everything. "Now tell me about Dumbledore?"

Tom's eyes turned dark and his jaws clenched. "That old fool has done nothing but ruin my plans. I made the mistake of showing my true self to him, and now he keeps an eye on me."

"But you're nice. Why would he not like you?" Harry tilted his head.

"There's things you don't know about me, Harry. Things that will make you see me as a monster," Tom said coldly.

"I may be naïve but I'm not stupid." He scoffed. "I know your club is filled with dangerous people. I dueled, and your followers wanted to torture me! But I don't care. You haven't done anything to me, not even hurt anyone in front of me. Until I see that... you're not a monster to me!" Harry declared.

Something strange happened to Tom's heart: it fluttered for the first time. He was confused and hated the way that he had no control on what was happening, and instead of figuring it out, he stood. "I'll be in my study. Don't disturb me." The cold voice was back.

Harry was left wondering what he did wrong.


	8. Harsh Times

Harry panted as he rolled across the floor, dodging the spell. His wrist made a popping sound as he landed incorrectly. He had no time to check it as another blasting curse was shot towards him.

"It seems running away is all you're capable of doing," Tom said in a stern voice.

"I wouldn't be running away if you weren't trying to hurt me!" He jumped from behind a table. It was supposed to be a simple practice, but it stopped being practice for Tom a long time ago.

It'd been ongoing for weeks.

"You should consider yourself lucky," Tom hissed, "because in the real world no one would go easy on you!" With a flick of his wand, the table flung to the side in full speed, then he cast _Incarcerous_.

Harry grunted when rope wrapped around him. His wand falling down from his fingers. He wasn't good yet. Nothing compared to Tom. The most he had ever gone close to hurting him was firing _Stupefy,_ and even then, Tom felt nothing.

"This isn't fair!" Harry snapped. He glared daggers at Tom, baring his teeth. "You're not training me, you're only inflicting pain on me!" All the curses or hexes weren't nearly as painful as the cold words Tom had told him.

"You know nothing about pain," Tom shouted, walking closer to Harry. "In fact, you know _nothing_ at all!"

Harry's eyed gleamed with tears. "Fuck you!"

Tom waved his wand upwards and watched in delight as Harry was hoisted into the air, upside down and still bound by the ropes. "What was that, Harry? Care to repeat yourself."

Gritting his teeth, Harry glanced down, fully aware that Tom wouldn't hesitate to drop him like a bag of potatoes. He chose his words carefully. "You win. Put me down."

"This isn't about winning. You can't surrender when something is out of your control. Do something, escape."

"I can't!" Harry screamed. "I don't have my wand!"

"Try. Perform wandless magic."

Harry had tried. Nothing ever happened. Why was Tom desperate to see him do it? Focusing in his mind, he called out for his magic, anything to aid him.

Again, nothing.

"I can't…" He shut his eyes in shame.

Tom scoffed and dropped him.

Harry welcomed the pain. He deserved it for failing Tom. His shoulder throbbed on the impact. But he didn't wince in front of the older man. It was a sign of weakness. Tom hated seeing weaknesses.

Tom marched out the practice room, the mirrors cracking as he passed by.

* * *

A letter arrived the next day for Harry. It made him happy that Edith often sent him letters; it's almost like she knew when Harry was gloomy.

_How are you, Harry? It's been far too long. I know you've been busy with training with our lord. I can only hope he's not harsh on you._

Harry snorted at that.

_Abraxas and I miss you dearly. We haven't seen you in four months. And before I forget, we're hosting a party in the Malfoy Manor before our upcoming wedding, and we would love it if you and our lord could come along. It's Abraxas' birthday, you see. I have a surprise to tell him. I wanted to tell you in person but who knows when we'll see each other in the summer. I'm pregnant!_

He gasped. "No way."

_I found out this week, and you're the first person I wanted to share it with. Can you believe it? Me, pregnant? I'm thrilled! I know my fiancée wants a little boy, but I have a strong feeling it's going to be a girl. Don't tell him I told you. Look at me, I'm squealing as I'm writing the parchment._

Harry picked up his quill and began writing.

_Edith, it brings me a smile whenever you owl me. Sometimes I feel like you're the only one who cares for me. I miss you so much. I've been training nonstop, and I'm not nearly as good as your future husband, but I'm getting by. Tom has been also teaching me dark spells. It's different. Now enough about me! Let's talk about you. I can't believe you're pregnant! Have you thought of names? You will be an awesome mother._

_I don't think we'll see each other either. Tom… has been strict with me. He says it's about turning me into a powerful wizard, but I don't know anymore._

His hands trembled upon remembering the curses Tom threw at him in the past. Taking a deep breath, he went on.

_Something happened between us. Everything was going great and then suddenly it wasn't. I feel like I did something to upset Tom. But I don't know. He won't talk to me, in fact, he tells me to go to my room like a scolded child. It's starting to piss me off. What do I do? I can really use your advice._

Harry sealed the letter in an envelope and gave it to the Malfoy's owl. He hoped Edith could help him.

* * *

"Remember, master—"

"Doesn't want me too far— Yes, I know, Corki," Harry grumbled at the elf. He hated being reminded of it every time.

Corki sighed. "Master doesn't want you getting hurt."

"More like he doesn't want me running away." Besides, where would he go? The only place he knew was the Malfoy Manor and no doubt Tom would look there first. "Don't worry. I'll be here."

The house elf nodded, then disappeared by snapping his fingers. Harry knew he wasn't far from him; Corki was considerate enough to give him space.

The breeze was strong and there were no clouds in sight. Sunlight was hitting directly on Harry's face, and it was soothing. He closed his eyes and let out a slow exhale, breathing in the scent of summer.

He could hear the tall grass moving in a direction from the wind. The birds chirping across him in a tree. Harry felt so relaxed that he flopped back into the grass. There was so much plants that it never hurt him.

Footsteps approached Harry, who groaned. "You said outside is my relaxing time." He hadn't opened his eyes yet, instead he placed his arms behind his head. "I still have fifty minutes if you're counting," Harry said in a sarcastic tone.

When Tom didn't answer, Harry cracked an eye open. He gasped and crawled back at the sight of a spooky man in a mask.

"Who are you? How did you get here?" Harry demanded. There had been no sound of anything. Did he cast a silencing spell? It must be.

"Finally," the man said. "After ten days of searching, I finally found you, Potter."

Harry blinked. "Potter? Who's Potter? I'm Harry Riddle."

The stranger seemed horrified for a split second before he composed himself. "No matter. Everything will be in order once you return."

Harry rolled back and summoned his wand. "I'm not going anywhere!"

Upon eyeing Harry's wand, the man scowled. "Didn't anyone ever tell you never change the past? Stubborn like your bloody father!" He quickly shot a _Confringo_.

But thanks to Harry's training, he easily dodged it and fired a stinging hex. The man produced a shield—and damn it, Harry was facing a strong opponent. No matter. Tom was stronger.

"Is that all you got?" Harry growled. As he attempted another hex, a red spell hit him across the chest, the force knocking him down. Yet, there was no pain. "What a weak spell!" He could never resist mocking someone.

"That's impossible!" the man shouted. "You're supposed to be in pain. I fired an unforgiveable— Crucio!" He fired again.

Harry covered his face with his arms, expecting the unforgivable to work this time. But when he felt no pain once again, Harry was left dumbfounded. He had read about Crucio; it's the most agonizing spell to cast on someone. Illegal too.

"What's the meaning of this?" The masked man glared at his wand, then at Potter. "What have you done now, boy?"

"Nothing." Unless… Harry pulled his long-sleeve upwards, revealing his snake tattoo—which was now glowing green. The mark was protecting him.

No, Tom was.

"Our lord will not be happy about this," the man said in a low tone. He raised his wand, ready to attack when he was thrown aside.

"Corki!" Harry smiled.

"You will not hurt Harry Riddle!" Corki shouted.

"Enough!" A wave of magic washed over them. Harry, who just stood up, was knocked down again. "House elves should mind their own business." Without moving his wand, Corki was immobilized, falling back like a statue.

"What did you do to him?" He rushed towards his friend. Corki looked at him with pleading eyes, almost like he was begging Harry to run away.

"A simple _Petrificus Totalus_. Now for you, Potter."

Harry found himself bound by absolutely nothing. This was new to him. "Release me!" He thrashed around but only ended being squeezed tightly.

"We don't have time for this—" The man was almost struck with multiple _Confringos._

"Didn't you hear him? He said _release_ _him_ ," Tom hissed. Red eyes darker than ever, Harry noted.

"Tom!" Harry cried out.

"It seems I'm out of time." The man didn't disapparate… he faded away, leaving Tom unsatisfied by not knowing who the enemy was.

Harry was free to move again. He climbed to his feet and tackled Tom in a hug. "You saved me! Thank you." He had thought Tom stopped caring for him. But it wasn't the case.

Tom pushed him back and reached for his wrist to inspect the mark. His fingers gently caressed the ink. "I felt the curse. A _Crucio_."

"It's okay. I didn't feel a thing," Harry reassured, lips forming a lopsided smile. He was happy because Tom still cared for him.

"Why are you smiling? You got attacked by a man in an awful mask." He glanced over his shoulder, wondering if the man would come back. While he didn't seem powerful to Tom, it was for Harry.

Harry shook his head. "It's nothing. Let's help Corki. He protected me, too."

Tom used a counter-spell, freeing his house elf. "Corki, what happened?"

"Corki didn't sense him, master."

"You as well." Tom stared at his house and then the landscape around him. "The wards were activated… however, it seemed to welcome the stranger." He locked his gaze with Harry's. "You just got a lot more interesting, Harry _Potter_."

Of course Harry forgot about that important information but Tom memorized everything he had heard.


	9. Not Similar

Tom set up a stronger ward around the house; that even people who were allowed would be forced to wait until he given permission. He couldn’t have another person break into his property. Tom had ordered Corki to take Harry back inside the house.

There were so many questions that needed answers: about the enemy who wanted to capture Harry and where he had gone. However, at the moment he had another pressing thing to ask. More _important_ than anything else.

Once the house seemed secure enough, Tom headed back inside where Harry was waiting.

* * *

“So, you’re a Potter?” Tom mused, and Harry’s shoulders stiffen. He didn’t like that name. “I should’ve known.”

“I don’t want to be a Potter,” Harry voiced out his thoughts. His hands gripping on his knees. “I want to be a Riddle.”

Tom scoffed. “That’s not for you to decide.”

Harry let go of his knees. The words cutting him like a knife. It sounded like Tom hated the name Potter, and every time the name fell out of his lips, it was said with disgust.

“Are you going to take me back to my family?” Harry muttered.

“No.”

Harry snapped his head towards Tom, heart racing, feeling relieved. He didn’t want to go back. He’s comfortable with Tom. He wanted to stay with him. “No?”

“If you do have a family—“ Tom seized Harry’s arm and in quick speed moved the sleeve, displaying the scar on his arm. “—then you’re better off not knowing them. They hurt you.”

His eyes widened; he had forgotten about the scars and who gave them to him. Harry glanced at his scarring skin, then looked away. How could his own family do this to him? Wasn’t he loved?

“No one loved me…” Harry whispered, voice cracking. “My own family hurt me.” But it didn’t make sense because he heard his parents when he did _Expecto Patronum_. His mom and dad. “No! It can’t be true!” Harry snatched his arm back and climbed to his feet. “My parents would never hurt me!”

Tom growled. “Look at yourself? You’re too thin and covered in more scars than any person I’ve ever met. You come from an abusive home!”

“No!” Harry shouted.

_Harry, you are loved, so loved._

“I’m loved.” His lips trembled and his head slowly lowered. “ _She_ told me.” He believed it.

“Who told you?” Tom demanded as his hand grasped Harry’s chin, fingers lightly digging into his skin, raising it.

“My Mom.”

“Explain!”

“When I dueled Abraxas and did _Expecto Patronum,_ I heard two voices. My parents,” Harry confessed. “That’s how I did the spell. They were my happiest memory, according to the textbooks I’ve read. They’re the reason I was able to produce the spell. So they couldn’t be the ones to hurt me.”

Tom finally released him. Harry rubbed his chin in order to soothe it.

“This is what you were hiding?” Tom asked in a low voice, and Harry had a feeling he was not too happy about it. “When I asked you about the spell.” He shook his head and let out a bitter laugh. “And here I thought we were similar.”

“Tom, we are—“

“We are not!” Tom snapped, his eyes turning red. He marched towards Harry. “You come from a loving family. You’re a _Potter_ : one of the wealthiest families. A pure-blood— No, blood traitors. Nothing like me. You speaking Parseltongue… it’s a disgrace to Slytherin’s line, and I _wish_ you didn’t have it.”

Harry’s heart shattered at his words. This was nothing compared to the cold words he had said in the past. Harry would rather be told that he couldn’t remember who he was than being told that he’s nothing like Tom.

Furious, he shoved Tom out of the way and left running out of the living room.

Harry rushed into his room, slamming the door shut. With shaky hands, he opened the drawer and reached for the brooch.

Tears fell on his hands as he brought the brooch closer. “Don’t worry, Tom. You don’t have to deal with me anymore.” He pressed the brooch with his fingers, and felt a powerful tug from his navel.

And Harry was gone.

* * *

Tom shouldn’t have said those words. He shouldn’t blame Harry for having a better life than him. He grew up in a horrible environment, and it’s not Harry’s fault. It’s not his fault Tom didn’t have a loving family—no, he did have a family, but they didn’t want _him_.

He pondered over if he was projecting on Harry.

It still didn’t explain the scars on Harry’s body. Tom lifted his robe and shirt, revealing his own scars where he received them from the orphanage.

His chest felt like he had been out of breath, which was silly because Tom hadn’t done anything. And yet, it felt like he was underwater. He ran his hand through his hair. The image of Harry’s hurt expression went through his mind.

Harry speaking parseltongue was a mystery; and deep down Tom didn’t want to know how. Tom had really thought they had a strong connection, only it wasn’t, merely a coincidence.

Maybe Tom wanted to believe that there was someone out there… like him. His equal.

As Tom pulled out his wand, it suddenly hit him that Harry’s wand was the brother to his wand. The strongest connection a person could ask for. How could he forget about that? Tom’s fingers caressed the edge of the wood. It had to mean something, and Tom was going to find out _what_.

A ward went off, ringing around Tom.

“No!” Tom raced to Harry’s room.

Only Harry wasn’t in there. Harry must've used a portkey to leave. Tom’s wards made sure it detected portkeys or whenever someone disapparated. That fool! Harry hadn’t learned disapparating yet, therefore it had to be a portkey. But how did he get his hands on a portkey—

 _Edith_.

She’s the only person who cared for Harry’s safety. Tom would make sure she got punished later. All that mattered now was getting Harry back.

“Harry,” Tom whispered. Harry was not safe out there, not when people were after him. Clutching his wand, Tom gritted his teeth and shouted Corki’s name.

“Yes, master?”

“Keep an eye on the place and notify me of any suspicious activities. I’m getting Harry back.”

“Yes, master. Corki will be on guard.” Corki disappeared while Tom apparated. 

First stop, Malfoy’s Manor.


End file.
